What do you think of this song, Washington Bullets?




Oh! Mama, Mama look there!
Your children are playing in that street again
Don't you know what happened down there?
A youth of fourteen got shot down there
The Kokane guns of Jamdown Town
The killing clowns, the blood money men
Are shooting those Washington bullets again

As every cell in Chile will tell
The cries of the tortured men
Remember Allende, and the days before,
Before the army came
Please remember Victor Jara,
In the Santiago Stadium,
Es verdad - those Washington Bullets again

And in the Bay of Pigs in 1961,
Havana fought the playboy in the Cuban sun,
For Castro is a colour,
Is a redder than red,
Those Washington bullets want Castro dead
For Castro is the colour...
... That will earn you a spray of lead

For the very first time ever,
When they had a revolution in Nicaragua,
There was no interference from America
Human rights in America

Well the people fought the leader,
And up he flew...
With no Washington bullets what else could he do?

'N' if you can find a Afghan rebel
That the Moscow bullets missed
Ask him what he thinks of voting Communist...
... Ask the Dalai Lama in the hills of Tibet,
How many monks did the Chinese get?
In a war-torn swamp stop any mercenary,
'N' check the British bullets in his armoury
Que?
Sandinista!

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  • Wow a 21 year old quoting The Clash - The first wave of punk in the 1970s - If it was the political message you liked, you might be interested in the song "Bullet The Blue Sky" by U2
    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3JjDDgK8KXc

    In the howlin' wind
    Comes a stingin' rain
    See it drivin' nails
    Into the souls on the tree of pain.

    From the firefly
    A red orange glow
    See the face of fear
    Runnin' scared in the valley below.

    Bullet the blue sky
    Bullet the blue sky
    Bullet the blue
    Bullet the blue.

    In the locust wind
    Comes a rattle and hum.
    Jacob wrestled the angel
    And the angel was overcome.

    You plant a demon seed
    You raise a flower of fire.
    We see them burnin' crosses
    See the flames, higher and higher.

    Woh, woh, bullet the blue sky
    Bullet the blue sky
    Bullet the blue
    Bullet the blue.

    Suit and tie comes up to me
    His face red like a rose on a thorn bush
    Like all the colours of a royal flush
    And he's peelin' off those dollar bills
    (Slappin' 'em down)
    One hundred, two hundred.

    And I can see those fighter planes
    And I can see those fighter planes
    Across the tin huts as children sleep
    Through the alleys of a quiet city street.
    Up the staircase to the first floor
    We turn the key and slowly unlock the door
    As a man breathes into his saxophone
    And through the walls you hear the city groan.
    Outside, is America
    Outside, is America
    America.

    See across the field
    See the sky ripped open
    See the rain comin' through the gapin' wound
    Howlin' the women and children
    Who run into the arms
    Of America.

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